


All the love I hold

by Anonymous



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Body Worship, Canon Asexual Character, M/M, Oral Sex, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, lots of love, set between 159 and 160, very tender smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23500603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: There’s not a lot of things Jon notices these days, too wrapped in his own head, but when Martin keeps squirming whenever he turns his eyes in his general direction for the last two hours it’s hard not to take notice.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 6
Kudos: 317
Collections: Anonymous





	All the love I hold

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from song for the asking by simon and garfunkel! this is not beta'd so excuse any typos or other errors you might find!
> 
> i applied my own flavour of aceness on jon here, which is okay with touching but not being touched. i decided to keep jon's equipment out of this so whether he too is trans or not is up to the reader! i also want to say that i'm using the word clit for martin here but no other word for describing his equipment besides "entrance" and the like
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

There’s not a lot of things Jon notices these days, too wrapped in his own head, but when Martin keeps squirming whenever he turns his eyes in his  _ general direction _ for the last two hours it’s hard not to take notice. Things had been going well between them since they started staying at the safehouse. They have yet to have a proper talk about where their relationship was heading, but they’d gotten far enough for there to be a couple of stolen kisses here and there. All in all, it was nice and right now it was enough for Jon. He had assumed the same for Martin, but with the obvious discomfort he wasn’t so sure anymore.

He had been fine this morning, no nervous fidget to his fingers or shifting whenever Jon met his eyes, and he certainly didn’t remember doing anything to attract this sort of reaction. He’s on the verge of asking if everything is okay more than once, faltering each time when Martin casts the shy smile he seems to always wear around him his way. It makes Jon fidget himself, more as a way of stifling his own smile rather than nervousness.

This continues until it’s time to start dinner. Even if Jon is the one to do most of the work, with his experience with cooking succeeding Martin’s by a long shot, Martin is always there to help out with whatever he can. It makes a warmth settle into his chest, watching Martin clumsily chop up carrots. It’s a very domestic scene he couldn’t have imagined for himself even a month prior. To keep himself from smiling so big it would’ve hurt himself he leans in and kisses Martin on the corner of his mouth. It’s by no means an unfamiliar action, both having done it to each other plenty of times, but Martin jumps as if it were the first, mouth twitching and cheeks flushing. It’s a curious reaction, most likely tied into his earlier behavior, and Jon blurts the words before he can stop himself.

“What’s the matter?” he’s able to stifle the static in his voice partway through the sentence, but the effect is the same. The  _ what  _ still comes out as a question asked by the archivist rather than Jon himself and as he watches Martin’s grip on the knife loosen from where it was clenched in his hand he steels himself for what the answer might be.

“I’ve been horny for you all day, but I don’t know how to approach the topic so I've just been trying not to think about it.” Jon can tell the second Martin realises what he’s said from the way he swallows. Before he can apologise for the compulsion, Martin laughs nervously. “Christ that really came out of nowhere, sorry. I, uh, know you don't really do this sort of stuff so you can just forget about it! I'll just-”

Jon places a hand on his cheek, thumb stroking over the mole beneath his left eye, and it shuts him up. “Hey, you don't have to be worried about telling me your feelings, even if you think they make me uncomfortable. They're  _ yours. _ ” The wide eyed look Martin gives him is enough to push him further. This time doesn't bite down on the smile that spreads across his face, more smug than anything else. “Besides… Who said anything about me not wanting to do stuff?”

Jon feels the way his face flushes further under his hand before he sees it. “I heard from the, er, the others a while back that it’s not your thing- sex, ah, that is.”

Suppressing a scoff, Jon shakes his head. “While it’s true that sex isn’t really my  _ thing,  _ as long as it’s not something being done to me I don’t mind it. I guess I’m neutral towards it?” he takes a moment, mulling over the words in his head. Martin waits, hands coming to rest on his shoulder and hip. “I don’t really like sex itself, but I do enjoy making the person I care about feel good… Martin, I’d enjoy making you feel good.” he finishes, intentionally making his voice gruffier. Martin one confided in him that his voice made him feel very strongly, and he intended to use that to his advantage as often as he could. He realised the desired effect was achieved when Martin bit his lip, breath coming out heavier than it had been previously.

“If you're sure…” he averts his eyes, fingers digging into the fabric of Jon’s jumper. Jon’s own expression softens, eyes crinkling as he leans in and kisses him fully on the mouth. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards and Martin must feel it because he smiles against his lips in turn. Taking the opportunity, he traces his bottom lip with his tongue in a wordless request. Martin parts his lips slightly, and exhales harshly against Jon’s cheek when he slips his tongue inside. Then it’s as if a switch has been turned on, an electrifying need to be closer-- both of them press closer, properly wrapping their arms around each other. One of Martin’s hands go into Jon’s hair, tugging it from it’s loose ponytail.

Leaning back to breathe, faces still close enough that it makes him cross eyed to look Martin in the eyes, he speaks up, “Perhaps… We should take this to the bedroom?” he pants, “Unless you really want to finish up the stew?”

Martin chuckles, his breath hot against Jon’s lips. It takes everything not to close the distance yet again for another kiss. “The stew can wait. I wasn’t all that hungry to begin with.” he says. Jon doesn’t resist leaning in for a peck before untangling himself to pull Martin up the stairs. During their short journey to the bedroom they keep stealing kisses. At one point they come to a complete stop with Jon pushed up against the bathroom door, before they tear themselves away to continue on their way, giggling like teenagers. It feels nice to be this carefree after all that has happened, Jon catches himself thinking, as he holds the hand in his like a lifeline.

When in the bedroom, the mood slows down to something quiet and calm. Jon steps back and for the first time this evening manages to look shy about their situation. Martin finds it endlessly endearing.

“I’m not comfortable with being, er, touched myself, but if you’d let me I would like to touch you,” Jon starts, pinning him with a stare that if he were in another situation he might think unnerving but here, in the gentle sunlight filtering through tattered curtains, he feels nothing for but love. It’s an alien thing, these days, to be taken over completely by an emotion unaccompanied by fear, but it’s welcome. He nods, chewing lightly on his lip, and watches Jon’s eyes snap downward. It makes the heat coiling in his stomach grow impossibly hotter. He can tell he’s getting wet already, can already feel the damp of his underwear clinging to him. Jon steps forward, the ghost of a smile haunting his face, and Martin simply has to greet it with a kiss.

“What would you like me to do?” Jon breaths against his mouth, hands slipping under Martin’s shirt to pull it off him. He lets him, his own tracing the skin on Jon’s stomach, making him shudder.

“I want… I want you to eat me out, if that’s okay with you?” he asks, just the thought is making his legs feel like jelly.

“Okay,” Jon mumbles into the skin of his throat where he has taken to map out with his mouth. “Let’s get you on the bed,” he walks them towards it until the back of Martin’s legs hit the edge of it. He pushes him down before following on his knees and hands. The sight of Jon crawling on all fours to get to him is so hot it makes his breath hitch. He opens his arms and finds, not for the first time, that Jon’s body fits perfectly against his own.

“Mmh,” Martin moans as Jon nips at his collarbone. His hands are tangled in his hair, pulling lightly when Jon sucks at the skin hard enough to leave a bruise. The noise he makes against his skin is enough for Martin to repeat the action. “You can go lower,” he murmurs and Jon obeys immediately. He kisses his way down Martin’s chest and stomach, taking extra care to kiss the curved scars. Martin is above pretending seeing the person he’s been in love with for the last several years of his life glance up at him as he places a gentle kiss on the scars from his top surgery doesn’t make him a little misty eyed. 

As Jon reaches his trousers he hooks a finger in the lining, “Is this okay?” Martin nods frantically, wiggling his hips to help Jon pull them down before kicking them off.

Martin watches Jon take in the sight of him, trailing down his body and stopping at the wet spot on the crotch of his underwear. Martin flushes, shifting to press his thighs together before thinking better of it and opening them more. An invitation Jon gladly accepts, settling down between them. Running his hands up and down the inside of his thighs, Jon leans down to press his lips on the fabric, just above the wet. Martin whines, squirming in his place. The movement makes Jon peer at him through his eyelashes, grinning cockily at him. Martin would’ve swatted at him if he hadn’t found it so  _ hot.  _ He watches as Jon removes his right hand from its place on his leg to thumb at his clit through the fabric of his underwear, moaning at the wet sound it makes. He makes a show out of running his thumb up and down his folds, occasionally pressing down on his clit. It’s as infuriating as it’s good and Martin wants to do something about it, to make him do  _ something _ before he explodes when Jon drops down to tentatively lick at the front of his briefs. Martin has to bite back an embarrassingly loud moan.

“Jon, as nice as this is, please get to it.” he pants, frustration lining his words. Jon has the audacity to look pleased about it as he removes his underwear, revealing dark curls. Martin feels exposed, his own nakedness a stark contrast to Jon being fully clothed. He seems to come to the same conclusion because he takes of his jumper before shimmying of his own trousers. He keeps his underwear on though, which Martin doesn’t mind one bit.

Jon slides down the bed a little to comfortably face Martin’s sex. “Still okay?”

“Yes, Jon,” Martin tries to push some sass into the sentence but it comes out as needy. Jon seems to enjoy it though, how increasingly desperate he’s getting. Martin doesn’t have it in him to be anything other than happy that Jon is enjoying himself-- especially not when he feels fingers spreading him open, exposing his entrance and just how wet he is.

“Great,” Jon replies, a little belatedly, obviously distracted with the task at hand. His voice carries the huskiness with it that he only gets when he doesn’t bother to soften his tone, something Martin hasn’t heard in a long while. It sends a shiver down his spine. Jon licks a stripe from his hole to his clit before swirling it around it and taking it into his mouth. Martin lets out a loud moan at that, unable to keep it back. He pulls at the strands in his hand, thrilled at the noise Jon himself lets out at that as he feels it more than hears it, the other bunching in the sheets.

“Jon,  _ Jon, _ ” Martin sighs. “Can- can you use your fingers too?” he bites his lip, exhaling harshly when Jon hums around his clit. A moment later long fingers trace his folds before slipping inside to prod at his entrance. He feels a finger pushing inside him with ease, pumping in and out in a slow pace while Jon continues his work with his tongue. It’s almost too much, heat tightening in his stomach. “Ah, Jon, I’m-” he cuts himself off as Jon crooks the finger in him  _ just right _ and his body goes taught, mouth falling open in a soundless scream as he comes.

Jon doesn’t let up, tongue and finger still moving for a few moments before adding another one. He begins fingering him faster and Martin finds he can no longer be quiet, moaning everytime the fingers push back in. He rocks back to meet the thrusts, fucking himself on Jon’s hand.

“It feels so good,  _ ah, _ ” he pants, breaking off as the surge of pleasure that comes from Jon other hand squeezing his ass before giving it a light smack. “You’re so good, Jon,” he meets Jon’s eyes and that’s what does it for him. He comes again, thighs trembling, hips jerking out of rhythm. This time Jon slows down. He removes his mouth from Martin but he doesn’t stop moving his fingers.

“Want to keep going?” he asks, voice hoarse. It makes Martin jerk his hips particularly hard and he’s sure it doesn’t escape his notice.

“Yes please,” he says, breathless. “If that’s alright,”

Jon’s tongue darts out from his lips to lick some of Martin’s slick off of them, the sight has him moaning lowly. The entire bottom half of his face is soaked in Martin’s fluids. It’s insanely hot.

“Of course,” Jon begins fucking him faster, adding another finger. He builds up the speed before he’s fucking Martin at a brutal pace, thumb rubbing his clit mercilessly. “You look so good like this, Martin. You’re beautiful,” his other hand that’s not occupied with fucking Martin within an inch of his life strokes his his stomach, trailing upwards to pinch a nipple. Martin bites his lip hard enough to almost breach skin.

“You’re a wonderful sight to behold,” he murmurs lowly. Martin is pretty sure it’s a pun but surprisingly, he can’t focus on that when he’s lost in the feeling of Jonathan Sims fingering him like his life depended on it. He moves his hips in time with the thrust the best he can, but as he’s getting closer to another orgasm he’s getting sloppier and sloppier. “Come for me, Martin.” Jon coons, pressing a kiss on the inside of his thigh. He repeats the words again before biting down on the same spot, all but pushing Martin over the edge. This time he does let out a moan loud enough to bother any neighbours if he had been doing this at his own flat. For once, he counts himself lucky to be so isolated from other people.

Jon stills his hand inside him before pulling out. The wet sound of him retracting his hand echoes in the now mostly silent room, save for Martin’s hard breathing. He takes a moment to catch his breath before shakily pulling himself up in his elbows to properly meet Jon’s eyes.

“That was… Thank you, Jon,” he huffs, laughing at his own lack of stringing together a complete sentence. Jon just watches him, expression full of adoration. It makes Martin feel warm, a different kind of warm than the post-orgasm one he is also experiencing. “Is there, uh, some way I can reciprocate?”

Jon smiles, shaking his head. “No, thank you. I, ah, appreciate the offer but I’m fine.” Martin figured as much, but it felt rude  _ not  _ to ask when he’s just had the best sex of his life.

They clean themselves up, or rather, Jon tells him to stay put while he gets a wet towel and wipes him clean to the best of his ability. It’s nice, being taken care of like this, Martin thinks.

Jon settles next to Martin, pulling the cover over them both, before absolutely crushing his face into Martin’s shoulder.  _ Like a cat,  _ he thinks, with nothing but love.

“Hey,” Jon begins, voice muffled. “I never asked, what did get you so worked up earlier today?”

Martin flushes red. “Oh, er, you see,” he says, lamely. “I saw you putting up your hair and thought about running my hands through it and it sort of just, spiraled from there.”

Chuckling, Jon presses himself closer to Martin’s body. “I have noticed you seem to have a, a  _ thing _ for my hair.”

“... I hadn’t realised, but yeah, as embarrassing as that is, I think I do.”

Silence settles between them once more as Jon begins to drift, Martin not far after, when he breaks it.

“... I love you.”

“I love you too, Jon.”

As sleep claims them both, they find that despite everything, they’re happy where they’re at and wouldn’t trade it for the world.


End file.
